Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 5 - Part 10

Previous TOC Next

He soared through the familiar grove of trees. It was rare to see so much greenery in the middle of Tokyo, and nestled within it stood the boxy Old Memorial Center. Akira was in there. Finally—finally, he would see him again. Al’s tiny bat heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.

He aimed straight for the prep room window—but someone emerged from the building. It was Koyanagi, Akira’s colleague and fellow embalmer. Al squeaked instinctively, "Gyah!"—then instantly regretted it as Koyanagi looked up and their eyes met. Busted.

He swerved hard, diving into the sheltering leaves of a nearby grove. Koyanagi came closer, walking under the trees without even using an umbrella. Al curled up tight behind a branch, hiding where he hoped he couldn’t be seen.

"Al, Al, come here."

His name was called. The urge to leap out and nuzzle into a warm hand, to be petted and told "good boy," nearly overwhelmed him—but now wasn’t the time.

"…Can’t be Al, huh. Takatsuka-san said he got lost in America."

The muttered words floated up, and Koyanagi turned to head back into the building. Lost… So that’s how Akira had explained his disappearance to the others. A lost pet.

Once Koyanagi disappeared from view, Al cautiously approached the prep room window. Just one squeak and Koyanagi had almost pegged him as pet-Al. If Akira saw him in this form, there was no doubt he’d recognize him instantly. Pretending to be some random bat wouldn’t fool anyone. From now on, he’d have to be more careful—make absolutely sure he was never seen, even in this form.

First, he perched in a tree near the window and peeked through the branches. But the distance from tree to window was too far; he couldn’t make out anything clearly. He shifted his position, but it didn’t help. Maybe the best option was to perch on the window’s awning and peek in from there.

Al fluttered to the awning and hung upside down, inching into a better view. Through the rain-slicked glass, he could just make out the inside of the room. Blurry, but visible.

There was a young man in the prep room—someone he didn’t recognize. No sign of Akira. Maybe he was in the embalming room? That room had a window too, but the glass was frosted and impossible to see through. He decided to wait there until Akira returned.

The young man was very tall. Easily 6'5" (around 198 cm). And muscular—his physique was obvious even under his clothes. He might be a new associate embalmer. If not for the lab coat, Al might’ve mistaken him for a professional wrestler. Lacking a name, Al dubbed him Wrestler.

Wrestler paced the room like a dog, round and round, before abruptly stopping and sinking onto the sofa. He buried his head in his hands and didn’t move again.

His pained posture made Al, who was spying on him from the window, begin to worry. What happened? Was something bothering him? Watching with concern, Al suddenly witnessed the moment he’d waited for.

The door burst open.

Akira. Akira. Akira. The real Akira.

He looked slightly thinner, maybe a bit smaller—but it was him. It was Akira. He was walking. Moving. Alive.

Al’s vision flared hot as tears flooded his eyes. He was so happy to see him that the tears wouldn’t stop. They poured down his furry cheeks, blurring the image of Akira that he’d longed so badly to see.

If he were allowed—if the world would permit it—he’d smash through the glass right now and dive into Akira’s arms.

"I sincerely apologize!"

The booming voice, loud enough to rattle the window, startled him so badly his tears instantly dried up.

"I’m truly, truly sorry!"

Wrestler had jumped up and crouched down before Akira. Al had seen this before—in a samurai movie. That’s right. Dogeza.

Akira looked down at him, his brow furrowed. Not angry—more like… perplexed.

"Raise your head."

Akira’s tone wasn’t harsh at all.

"Next time, I’ll do better… I swear I’ll do better…"

"You can’t even talk like that. Sit down on the sofa."

Wrestler stood up, trembling, and slumped into the sofa. Despite his large frame, he looked small, his back hunched tightly inwards. He sat across from Akira, a small table between them. Akira finally opened his mouth.

"It’s been nearly two months since you started your internship here. During that time, I’ve had you assist with nearly every case I’ve handled—but not once have you seen a procedure through to the end."

Wrestler’s broad back curved even further. Akira let out a sigh.

"I can tell you’ve built up a tolerance for the smell of blood, but the fact that you still can’t look at internal organs… maybe it’s just not something you’re cut out for."

"I—I’ll try harder!" Wrestler lifted his head, clenching his fists in front of his chest. It was probably meant as a show of resolve, but it looked more like a fighting stance—and a little intimidating. Akira’s expression remained conflicted.

"I’ll admit you’re earnest and eager to learn. But if you can’t handle internal organs to this extent, even if you get your certification, I don’t think you’ll be able to manage this as a career. It’s not realistic to expect to only be assigned bodies without internal trauma."

Wrestler sagged like a salted leaf.

"I knew you weren’t good with blood, and I thought you’d adjust over time with repetition. But if you can’t handle the internal work, then this isn’t really functioning as an internship anymore."

"B-But I’ve been able to stay in the prep room a little longer each time! Today I couldn’t handle the smell, but I think I can build up tolerance. Please, just a little longer—please!"

"Still, you pushed yourself too far today. You were about to collapse."

"I’ll be more careful next time!"

Faced with his continued pleas, Akira pressed both hands to his head, groaning softly. Watching that, Wrestler leaned his head back to look at the ceiling, then slowly swept his gaze around the room—and stopped at the window.

Is he looking at me? Al wondered. Or just out the window? He couldn’t tell.

Akira slowly lifted his face.

"…Hn? What are you looking at?"

"There’s… some kind of animal by the window."

Crap.

Al ducked back up to the top of the awning in a flash, then launched himself into the cover of the leafy branches.

With a bang, the window flew open. Akira leaned out, scanning both sides. Behind him, Wrestler also poked his head out. Al watched them through the cover of leaves, hardly daring to breathe.

"I thought it was a rat, but it flew. Probably a bat?"

SLAM.

Akira shut the window so hard Wrestler jumped.

"It’s past six. Internship’s over. Go home!"

His voice was sharp—harsh enough to make the huge Wrestler flinch.

Al circled around to the front of the building and perched on a branch overlooking the entrance. Soon, Wrestler emerged in a raincoat, pedaling off on his bicycle with a metallic jingle. About thirty minutes later, Akira stepped out. As always, he wore a light shirt and dark trousers. His face was hidden under an umbrella, but he glanced around as if searching for something.

He tilted the umbrella far back—Al got a good look at his face. Akira scanned the tree where Al was hidden, but apparently couldn’t spot him. With a deep sigh, he scratched his head roughly and headed off toward the back lot where the cars were parked.

Previous TOC Next